


J-Bodies Christmas Special

by jaxstronomy



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles X
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 16:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9500933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxstronomy/pseuds/jaxstronomy
Summary: In which Genesis learns the true meaning of Christmas.(Originally posted to my tumblr at jaxstronomy, figured it would be good to keep it here as well!)





	

_“The streets are filled with Christmas cheer, at least it’s only once a year…”_

Mina walked through the commercial district, eyes downcast and ignoring the lights wound about the palm trees lining the boulevard. They looked absurd, more like poles than trees. Maybe people who’d lived in California before Exodus found them festive, but to a Northerner it seemed off-brand and generic, a half-assed approximation of holiday cheer.

Why, she wondered, did everyone agree that Christmas should be celebrated here? The citizens of NLA included humans of all faiths, xenos ranging from the atheistic Man-on to the animistic Prone, and artificial intelligences of varying levels of sophistication, yet it seemed like everyone had agreed on Christmas. The elaborate displays in the shop windows did little to prevent her from drawing cynical conclusions about retailers nostalgic for the Christmas rush.

“Mina!”

Gen’s voice pulled her out of her brooding. The taller woman was wearing a blue sweater with elaborate snowflake patterns, holding a brilliant red paper cup, and grinning broadly. Mina forced a smile, waved back, and braced herself for enthusiasm.

“Merry Christmas, Mina!” Gen said, grabbing her around the shoulders and crushing her in a side hug. “Why didn’t you tell me about Christmas? It’s great! It’s all about celebrating, and being happy, and there are peppermint mochas and cookie houses and sweaters and presents-”

Mina bit her lip, trying to keep from scowling at her friend. “Oh, yeah. Christmas.” She looked to one side, trying to think of a graceful way to escape from this conversation without telling Gen that Santa isn’t real. “I guess I forgot to mention it. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok, Mina, it’s the season of giving and cheer! Here, I haven’t had any of this yet, I’ll get myself another one.” Gen pushed the mocha into Mina’s hands. She didn’t have the heart to object. “Are we going to have a party? And open presents together?”

Mina took a long drink of the too-sweet coffee, just to avoid standing there silently. “I don’t know, Gen. I kind of… don’t celebrate Christmas.”

She looked genuinely shocked. “But why wouldn’t you celebrate Christmas?”

“It’s a long story, Gen,” Mina replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. “But Merry Christmas to you, I’m glad you’re enjoying the season.”  

* * *

Genesis watched as Mina walked away, tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes. Why wouldn’t Mina like Christmas? Everything about it seemed so wonderful- the beautiful lights, the happy songs, the presents and parties. She pouted in frustration. If she was a human, she’d probably understand.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded in an attempt at resolve. Someone would be able to explain why Mina didn’t like Christmas. “I could ask Rourke… no, he wouldn’t know about Christmas either. Maybe Touya… but he doesn’t know Mina very well.” She mused to herself as she walked, then stopped, face brightening with renewed cheer. “I know! I’ll go ask Melon!” 

* * *

 The Cathedral hadn’t been designed for acoustics, Melon thought to himself, lifting his hands from the organ keys and listening to the discordant reverberation linger in the room. Some might say that he shouldn’t complain - the organ was close enough to a piano, and he was able to practice for free. Screw that, it’s not a piano, and I sound terrible.

“Hi Melon! Why didn’t you answer your comm? I heard that you were practicing here, you sound great!”

He turned around and looked up to see Gen towering over him, a giant smile on her face. No point trying to tell her he wasn’t happy with his playing. “Thanks, Gen. It’s not perfect but it’s better than nothing.” She leaned against the wall and looked at him expectantly. He sighed. “Why were you looking for me?”

Gen folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the ceiling like there was a particularly shiny object attracting her attention. “So Melon, you’re a human, right? And you know about Christmas?” He nodded, gesturing for her to go on. “Why doesn’t Mina like Christmas? I asked her about it earlier and she got really quiet and said she didn’t celebrate Christmas. How do you not celebrate… celebrating?”

Melon frowned, tapping his hands lightly on the keys. Just his luck, getting to teach the robot girl the true meaning of Christmas. “Christmas is a religious holiday, Gen. A Christian holiday. And Mina isn’t Christian.”

She looked at him, confused. “Is everyone except Mina Christian? I thought everyone was celebrating and enjoying Christmas.”

“No, they aren’t, but… that’s complicated. I’m not either,” he said, bringing a hand to his face in thought. “I guess the best way to explain it… a lot of people in America - where the Whale came from - were Christian, or their families were at some point. So it became a default holiday season.”

“Hmm,” Gen replied, her look of confusion remaining constant. “So it’s religious, and not religious? That’s weird.”

“Yeah, it is weird,” he said, then glanced back towards the sheet music he’d been hoping to read through today. Not like he was going to get to it while Gen was staring at him.

“Well, everyone is so happy now, and Mina’s been so helpful, and I want her to have a happy Christmas too,” Gen said, fiddling with her gloves. “Can you help me do something for her? Please?”

Melon sighed and rose from the bench. “Fine, I’ll help. Come on, let’s go find Rourke.”

* * *

 Rourke leaned heavily on the rail of the West Gate guard post. How, he wondered, hadn’t anyone else complained about watching these damn Ovis? They might as well not exist, at least as far as the other Interceptors were concerned. Ah well. Only fifteen more minutes, then he’d be off shift and they’d be someone else’s problem.

“Rourke!”

He startled, fumbling against the rail as he turned to see Gen bounding up the stairs, Melon lagging behind. “Uh, hi Gen, hi Melon! What are you guys doing here?”

“You need to help us help Mina have a Merry Christmas!” Gen said as she practically skidded to a stop in front of him. “I saw her earlier and she seemed sad about Christmas and I want her to be happy too.”

Rourke scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I mean, sure, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to help. I know about as much about Christmas as you do.”

“That’s why Gen asked me first,” Melon said, speech wavering as he tried to catch his breath.

“Melon had a great idea, and you need to help us with it!” Gen said, grabbing his arm excitedly. “You’re her best friend, and she’s always happier talking to you-”

“So uh, your idea is to have me talk to her?” Rourke said, frowning. “I hate to break it to you, but we talk all the time. How is that supposed to help?”

“Completely missed my point, Gen,” Melon said, shaking his head. “Rourke, you still have the key to Mina’s workshop, right?”

* * *

 Mina picked up the coffee cup on the corner of her desk and sniffed at it experimentally. The peppermint mocha Gen had foisted on her this morning, half finished and stone cold. She pitched it into the wastebasket. It had been a kind gesture, but she still wasn’t feeling the Christmas cheer.

The door to her workshop slid open, and she rolled her eyes. Only one person in NLA had the ability and the cheek to just walk in without knocking. “Remind me why I gave you a key?”

“Something about being tired of me blasting the lock off,” Rourke said.

“Here to steal my bourbon?”

“The opposite, actually.” He placed a bottle on her desk - about as good a bottle of bourbon as the Integrated Production Plant could churn out, with an elaborate silver ribbon and an understated hang tag.

She sighed. “Rourke, you didn’t have to do this. I don’t really celebrate Christmas.”

“Well, I did,” he said, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Also, read the tag.”

She picked up the bottle and opened the tag. “Wishing you a happy non-denominational winter holiday. From Melon, Gen, and Rourke.”

Rourke smiled at her, that familiar uncertain smile. “So, uh, Merry not-Christmas, I guess?”

She smiled for what felt like the first time all season. “Merry not-Christmas to you too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
